Post by Fearsome on Jul 7, 2008 9:34:55 GMT -5
Alt Name: Fearsome
IC Name: Fearsome
Gender: Tom
Description of History, physical characteristics, personality, feelings toward Clanners:
Born a loner who basically ignored the Clans, Tribes, etc... Silver tabby tom with jet black stripes that wind their way around his barrel. Didn't much care for staying in one place, and so would not adapt to anyones life but a rogues. Fear snuck away from his mother and went off. He has seen many things, and only really cares about himself in a survival-based way. Glowing lime green eyes fit the silent tom. Unlike my alt, Owlfur, he is reserved and unwilling to share his knowledge with anyone who won't give something back. A mercenary, in a sort of way, helping to fight for hunting rights, or a portion of prey. Fear doesn't look down on Clans, he just finds their ways oppressive. He's very good at masking his feelings behind a wall of the unknown. Not much loyalty in this one, but a lean build and flexible form make him a warrior.
Experience in Warriors/Feral rp: Owned Rain Falls Packlands, has RPed cats for only a year but RPs multi-paragraph at best. Not the worst speller, but not the best. RPs wolves and warriors cats. Owns Beyond the Clans: Cat Tribe RP
Sample Post (Can be reposted from logs):
Fearsome wandered. It was a dumb, idiotic, thick-skulled phrase to describe the activity. The silver-haired rogue was traversing the vast lands of Clan and Tribe and two-legs and sharpteeth. There were things he'd seen that others could not have even dreamed of. There were cats who were so ignorant, it would take millenia to fill them in. That was why the tom rarely spoke unless it was to strike a deal. For the most part, the lone warrior remained a mysterious enigma who had little in the ways of morals as he sold his skills for prey and hunting rights. A mercenary of the feral feline world. What cat could grasp the idea of a rock the size of mountain that roared fire? What cat could dream of a Clan Camp with monsters like the monkey, the orca whale, or the California condor? Soon enough, the tabby came upon yet another camp. Another anthill on the scarred face of the Earth. Another school of carp who had their own religion, their own words, their own everything - except language. A brown-and-blue female came upon him, spitting like froth of a rabid raccoon. As she was silent, so was he, for there was no need to strike up unwanted chitter chatter. This cat was obviously intending to fight him. A foolish plot. The tom sat at the base of a group of stones, his muscles taunt and tense and ready should she make a move. Cold, unbearably void green locked into a similar set of chilling verdant eyes.
IC Name: Fearsome
Gender: Tom
Description of History, physical characteristics, personality, feelings toward Clanners:
Born a loner who basically ignored the Clans, Tribes, etc... Silver tabby tom with jet black stripes that wind their way around his barrel. Didn't much care for staying in one place, and so would not adapt to anyones life but a rogues. Fear snuck away from his mother and went off. He has seen many things, and only really cares about himself in a survival-based way. Glowing lime green eyes fit the silent tom. Unlike my alt, Owlfur, he is reserved and unwilling to share his knowledge with anyone who won't give something back. A mercenary, in a sort of way, helping to fight for hunting rights, or a portion of prey. Fear doesn't look down on Clans, he just finds their ways oppressive. He's very good at masking his feelings behind a wall of the unknown. Not much loyalty in this one, but a lean build and flexible form make him a warrior.
Experience in Warriors/Feral rp: Owned Rain Falls Packlands, has RPed cats for only a year but RPs multi-paragraph at best. Not the worst speller, but not the best. RPs wolves and warriors cats. Owns Beyond the Clans: Cat Tribe RP
Sample Post (Can be reposted from logs):
Fearsome wandered. It was a dumb, idiotic, thick-skulled phrase to describe the activity. The silver-haired rogue was traversing the vast lands of Clan and Tribe and two-legs and sharpteeth. There were things he'd seen that others could not have even dreamed of. There were cats who were so ignorant, it would take millenia to fill them in. That was why the tom rarely spoke unless it was to strike a deal. For the most part, the lone warrior remained a mysterious enigma who had little in the ways of morals as he sold his skills for prey and hunting rights. A mercenary of the feral feline world. What cat could grasp the idea of a rock the size of mountain that roared fire? What cat could dream of a Clan Camp with monsters like the monkey, the orca whale, or the California condor? Soon enough, the tabby came upon yet another camp. Another anthill on the scarred face of the Earth. Another school of carp who had their own religion, their own words, their own everything - except language. A brown-and-blue female came upon him, spitting like froth of a rabid raccoon. As she was silent, so was he, for there was no need to strike up unwanted chitter chatter. This cat was obviously intending to fight him. A foolish plot. The tom sat at the base of a group of stones, his muscles taunt and tense and ready should she make a move. Cold, unbearably void green locked into a similar set of chilling verdant eyes.
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